


Red as Strawberries

by elliot_cant_write



Category: If We Were Villains - M.L. Rio
Genre: Multi, i guess ill raise this ship myself, in the same universe as i wish i could feel things but takes place before it, one day ill write something cheerful for these guys but not yet, takes place post-Oliver getting arrested, we also talk a lot about oliver but whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 01:26:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14485767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliot_cant_write/pseuds/elliot_cant_write
Summary: Why they didn't all end up living together in New York like Oliver wanted to.





	Red as Strawberries

The worst thing, it had seemed like they were almost at peace. 

Wren could go more than a week without imagining how different their lives would have been if Richard had never left the Castle that night. Alexander was less terrified of Colin disappearing. James left his apartment more often. Meredith...well, she still refused to even say Oliver’s name, but others could without her blowing up at them. And Filippa was Filippa. 

Wren was determined that they were all going to stay friends. She didn’t think that any of them could stand losing someone else, and she did not want to be getting a letter after losing contact saying that one of them had finally cracked and fallen to pieces. So monthly dinners were a thing. Even Colin was invited. 

Everything went to shit (as Alexander had so eloquently put it) when Wren had innocently asked James about when he was planning on driving down to visit Oliver. 

Meredith and Wren had always gotten along spectacularly; even when Richard was being an ass, they were still best of friends. Filippa had never heard either one snap at the other. But then Meredith did.

She was justified in her anger, and Filippa knew it, and she could tell James and Wren and Alexander and Colin all knew it too. Oliver was a touchy subject; Meredith was by far the angriest. Truly, Filippa and James were the only ones who could stand to visit him on a regular basis. And Filippa was the only one who had forgiven him, just because she was half-way to doing the same.

So Meredith snapped at Wren. James got mad at Meredith for snapping at Wren. Wren got mad at James for acting like she couldn’t take care of herself and for Meredith for policing other people’s feelings.

Then it was only Filippa, Colin, and Alexander.

Alexander sighed and asked if anyone wanted a stronger drink.

That was the beginning.

•

Filippa and Wren were living together, but sometimes she was the one Filippa felt the most apart from. Of course, other times they were incredibly, intimately close. And it was dizzying, jumping between feeling as if she knew everything and feeling as if she was pressed up against a stranger. And it was intentional, because Wren was beautifully emotional and expressed everything unconsciously. So why the fuck was she hiding? 

“Your glasses are really cute,” Wren gently tapped Filippa’s noseband with her pointer finger. Her nails were bitten down and partially coated in blue polish. “I’m glad they’re not fake.”

“Really? Because I’d love to be able to see.” Filippa said dryly, as if she wasn’t totally buzzing inside partially because Wren was so close and partially just because it finally wasn’t a bad night. “But if you like them, I guess that weighs that out.”

“You’d rather not be able to see than wear fake glasses. Tell me I’m wrong.”

And Filippa laughed, because sometimes that was allowed to happen. “Maybe so.”

“Wait, that’s a fun game.” Wren scrambled to be sitting properly, no longer lounging against Filippa’s shoulder. She pretended she didn’t miss the warmth. “Which of our friends would be most likely to wear fake glasses?”

“Are we really doing this?”

Wren stared. Filippa sighed. “Alexander. He owns a pair. He showed me an old picture our first year.”

“I knew it!” Wren said gleefully, practically falling off the couch. “That just makes sense.” And she curled up back against Filippa’s side, warm and tactile and soft.

It was a good night.

•

The night she left, Meredith asked Filippa to meet her at a bar. They both knew fully what they were walking into. But Filippa pretended anyway.

“What’s the suitcase for?” She asked as Meredith used her foot to push it further under the table. 

Meredith was unamused. “I think it’s best if we don’t pretend tonight.”

So Filippa dropped the cover. “Can you tell me where you’re going, at least?”

Meredith shrugged. “Somewhere I can act. Somewhere where there’s Shakespeare. Although, at this point I feel like I would settle for just about anything.” Suddenly she looked vulnerable, more than she had since the night Oliver got arrested. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

Filippa shrugged, and drowned half her drink. “I’m your secret keeper.”

“You know things, don’t you?” Meredith asked after a few seconds of silence. “James too. Both of you know something big and it matters, but you aren’t going to tell me.”

Filippa shrugged again. “Not my secrets.”

That almost made her smile. “At least I’ll know mine is safe.”

And eventually it was too late to stay out, but neither of them particularly wanted to go. Still, Meredith eventually stood up and stuck out her hand. “I’ll miss you.”

And Filippa took it. “Call me when you get where you’re going?”

Meredith laughed and they both pretended her voice didn’t shake. “Of course.”

So Filippa went home, went to sleep besides Wren, and the next morning she pretended that Meredith’s disappearance was a surprise to her too. 

•

It wasn’t even something that mattered. Well, no. It was something that mattered, the argument just was hardly necessary. 

Wren was the only one out of them that could ever see through her (save maybe Alexander), but even she never could all the way. Still, she knew something was going on in regards to Meredith leaving and she knew Filippa knew something. But she didn’t know the truth, so she just assumed Filippa wasn’t reacting because she didn’t care.

That was the issue with somebody who expressed everything being with someone who expressed almost nothing. There were misunderstandings.

“I just don’t get it!” Wren said, and really, she sounded almost more frustrated than legitimately angry. “I’m upset. Alex and Colin are upset. Even James is! So why aren’t you.”

Filippa pressed her palms into her eyes. “It’s not that I’m not upset. Please, just let it go; you can’t understand and I can’t expect you to.”

“Why not?” Wren’s voice got steadily higher. “Why can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

Filippa felt like everything was falling apart. “I’m so sorry.”

Wren stormed down the hall and slammed the door behind her, and Filippa slowly sunk down onto the couch.

It was a bad night.

•

Sometimes, James would just randomly call her, and Filippa would drop everything and go. Partially because she still felt bad about not doing something to stop things before they got bad. Mostly because she couldn’t stand to lose him too.

He called, that time, after midnight, and his voice was so choked up that he had hardly said a full sentence before Filippa was already lacing up her shoes. When she got to his apartment ten minutes later, his eyes were red and they were hardly in the door before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug.

James was real and solid and if it wasn’t for how badly he was shaking, everything would have seemed like maybe life didn’t royally suck and maybe they would be okay. 

“What’s wrong?” Filippa eventually asked, not willing to let go yet for entirely selfish reasons. He didn’t answer. “James, you’ve got to talk to me.”

“Sometimes I wake up,” James’ entire resolve abruptly cracked and everything came spilling out. “And all I can see is that dreadful fucking hook, covered in his blood, and I can feel it on my hands even though I know it’s not there, and then I’ll think I’m in the Castle again, but Oliver isn’t here anymore.”

“Fuck, James.” Filippa whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why? It’s my own fault. I should have said something, but Oliver made me promise and I couldn’t stand to lie to him anymore.” James buried his face into her shoulder. “And now I’m never going to see him again.”

“No.” Filippa said firmly, forcing all emotions out of her voice because this was going to go south for both of them if she didn’t stay calm. “James, you’re going to see him again. You go visit him all the time, and one day, he’ll be able to come and visit you here.”

James shook his head, eyes shining again. “I can’t do this anymore.”

•

Wren left, and it was the worst night. So Filippa went to Alexander, because she couldn’t stand to stay in her and Wren’s townhouse. 

He let her in, and he did not ask questions or acknowledge that she definitely cried at some point on the way over. He just made hot chocolate, asked Colin to let them have some privacy for a few minutes, and sat them both down on his couch. 

“Is it Wren?” He eventually asks, after she takes a few sips of the hot chocolate. Filippa vaguely noticed it was in the mug Colin had gotten him for Christmas a few years before.

She nodded, and he sighed. “Is she…?”

“She’s in London.” Filippa felt like she was unraveling from the top down. “Wren is in London, Meredith is in New York City, Oliver is in jail because he loved James too much to let him go instead, and James is dead because he loved Oliver too much to break a promise to him. And I’m so fucking sick of keeping people’s secrets.”

To his credit, Alexander’s response was remarkably level headed. “Okay. Pip, stay here, please. I love you and you’re upset and the idea of you going home now honestly scares the shit out of me. Is that okay?”

Filippa nodded. “I just...I don’t think I can stand to lose you too.”

He nodded, staring blankly at her knee. “I guess we’re all that’s left now.”

And that was the end.

**Author's Note:**

> Some notes:  
> 1\. So I woke up this morning and decided I wanted to do three things today. Get into the Dead Kennedys, start watching Criminal Minds, and write something for this fandom. And this wasn't actually supposed to be published tonight, but tomorrow I get my choir assignment and I'm stressed so I've been writing and watching Criminal Minds for the past two hours.  
> 2\. The title comes from White Winter Hymnal. I sang it with my a cappella group ages ago and I always felt it was a very guilty song, which I think works well alongside this thing.   
> 3\. One day, I'll be writing something where after James 'died' he lives in a tiny house. Somebody hold me to this.  
> 4\. As always, tumblr is penguinsarebetterthanpeople if anyone wants to be friends, even though I'm not part of the prestigious iwwv squad.   
> 5\. Thank you all so much for reading, etc!!! <3


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